


Holiday Drabbles

by bzarcher



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Candyfloss & Lace, Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Cryptid!AU, Drabbles, Family, Found Family, Friendship, Gifts, Holiday Traditions, Holidays, Meals, Multi, Odette!AU, Restaurant!AU, Secret Santa, Sleepy Cuddles, Surprises, Trans!Tracer, Winter, quiet night, unexpected gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8909794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/pseuds/bzarcher
Summary: Drabbles set in each of my current ongoing projects for this holiday season - a gift from me to you.





	1. Caroling (Rising Swan)

_What a difference a year makes_ , Lena Oxton thought to herself as she half-walked, half-stumbled into the Watchpoint Gibraltar kitchen, struggling under the weight of several overloaded shopping bags.

This time last year, her lover had been struggling to understand who she _was_ , let alone what the holidays meant to her. Odette had been so confused by the idea that she _deserved_ to receive gifts, let alone celebrate anything, that Lena had quietly arranged to keep things fairly low key for the former Widowmaker to keep her from becoming overwhelmed. She’d even backed off her normal “over-doing it is the only proper way to do it” attitude towards holiday decorating and outfits that year, to the quiet relief of almost the entire roster of the revived Overwatch.

But a lot had happened to both Lena and Odette in the past year – and that included a much greater appreciation of the reasons behind the celebrations that Odette had struggled to understand last year, and of how much both women were truly thankful for.

The most obvious difference this time around, Lena had quickly learned, was that where Lena was the type to overdo things with decorations and outfits, Odette had thrown herself into a personal crusade to feed everyone in Overwatch until they burst.

Which is why Lena was making almost daily shopping runs for different ingredients and supplies, and why her lovely swan was singing to herself as she dropped latkes into a pan of hot oil.

_Allon, gay, gay, gay, Bergeres, allon, gay, soyez legeres, suyvez moy._  
_Allon, allon voir le Roy, qui du ciel en terre est nay, allon, gay._  
_Allon, gay, gay, gay, Bergeres, allon, gay, soyez legeres, suyvez moy.  
_ [ _Un gâteau luy donneray, et moy, plain hanap luy offriray, gay, gay! Allon, gay…_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDHfTYZ9lJ0)

Lena nearly dropped a bag of clams and salt cod on her foot before she was able to get her payload onto the countertop, but getting to listen in had been worth it. Grinning, she waited until Odette had stepped back from the stove for a moment to hug her from behind, pressing a kiss against the side of her neck. “I hadn’t heard that one before. Is it one you remembered?”

Odette sighed happily, then lightly slipped from Lena’s grasp so she could turn the potato pancakes before they burned. “One I learned,” she explained, “I asked Athena to play a few French carols for me. I wanted to see if anything would surface.”

Lena nodded and was confused why her partner didn’t go on, then realized she’d managed to stand exactly where she couldn’t be seen moving, so she made an encouraging noise instead.

“And…?”

Odette shrugged. “ _Mais, non_. Perhaps Amélie did not care for them, I’m not sure. Some memories have become clearer in the last few years, while some faded. I enjoyed this song, so I asked Athena to play it for me until I could sing it myself.”

“It’s beautiful,” Lena enthused as she began to put away the groceries, “you’ve got a lovely singing voice, you know? I never get tired of it.”

Odette rolled her eyes. “I suspect you are biased, _chérie._ ” Loading the first batch of latkes on a serving plate, she began to drop more potatoes into the pan. “Did you have any trouble with my list?”

Lena shrugged. “Never going to have trouble buying seafood when we’re so close to the ocean. A few of the shops were blitzed, but it’s December 23rd. I didn’t expect much else, just took a few extra stops is all.”

“I appreciate it,” Odette assured her, and after Lena had finished shutting the refrigerator door she found herself being hugged from behind in turn, “I am enjoying being able to…give back?” Odette’s arms wrapped beneath the accelerator’s harness, the taller woman pressing a kiss to Lena’s forehead. “Those aren’t quite the right words. To do something for our friends because I _want_ to do it. Not because I have been ordered too. Not because I feel I am obligated, or expect anything in exchange. Just because I can.”

Lena turned so she could offer a proper kiss, smiling the entire time. “That’s what this time of year is really supposed to be about, when you get down to it. Plenty of different ways to do it, but…the heart’s the same, yeah?”

Odette gave a thoughtful ‘ah’, then smiled. “Speaking of the heart…can I get you to sing a Christmas song _you_ like for me, _ma coeur?_ ”

Lena felt herself blush. “Oh, you don’t want that. I’m rubbish, really.”

“I seem to recall you being quite happy to join Jesse, Reinhardt, and Angela in a few songs at last year’s party.”

Lena shook her head vigorously. “After five cups of Torb’s spiked punch!”

Odette was smiling, but the determined set to her face was all too familiar. “You must be able to sing _something,_ Lena. _S’il te plait?_ ”

Lena’s eyes darted desperately around the room until she spotted the pan still sitting on the stove. “Don’t you have more pancakes to cook up?”

“All the more reason,” her lover insisted, “why I should have something to enjoy while I work.”

Lena sighed, resigned. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

“ _Non_ ,” Odette promised her before returning to the stove, “but I could make it worth your while later…”

“I only half remember most of them,” Lena admitted reluctantly, “and my voice is terrible. I sound like a bloody kazoo.”

“Just one,” Odette gently pressed, “and I like your voice, _mon prince_. Especially when I start to  _make_ you sing…”

Lena was incredibly thankful that no one else was attempting to grab anything from the kitchen in that moment, and hoped something more interesting had captured Athena’s attention, because she did not want this recording showing up anywhere, ever.

“Ok, ok…” Lena straightened and tried to think of one she could pull off while sober, then took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

_Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh!_  
_O’er the fields we go, laughing all the way!_  
_Bells on bob tails ring, making spirits bright._  
_What fun it is to laugh and sing a sleighing song tonight!_  
_Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way_  
_Oh, what fun it is to ride, in a one horse open sleigh!_  
_Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way_  
_I forget the rest, except for the Batman bits  
_ _and I know that’s not okaaaaay…_

When she opened her eyes, Odette had crossed her arms over her chest, one hand holding a spatula, the other covering her mouth. Her eyes were dancing as she tried desperately not to laugh, and Lena had a powerful urge to disappear. Possibly until next Christmas if at all possible. Maybe until Christmas of 2085.

“I know,” Lena sighed, “I know, that was…”

“Absolutely adorable, Lena!” Odette _was_ laughing, but after heartbeat Lena realized it was out of _delight_ , not ridicule. “You looked so…so _cute_ .”

Lena could hardly believe her ears. “Really?”

“ _Absolument._ ”

Lena smiled shyly. Well. Maybe that wasn't so bad after all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the curious - the supply run was to get Odette everything she needs to cook the Feast of the Seven Fishes for Christmas Eve.


	2. Surprises (Candyfloss & Lace)

Hana Song (a.k.a. “D.Va” to the crowd who watched her streams when she wasn’t working at Club L’Enfer) looked at the slip of paper in her hand and pouted, feeling her primary ears flattening against the top of her head. “Really? _Aleks_ is my secret santa?”

Athena raised an eyebrow from where she sat at the bar, writing out the next week’s shifts. “This is a problem? I thought you two were friends.”

“Well,” Hana admitted, “yeah. Kinda. I…just have no idea. What do you get someone who constantly says she doesn’t need anything?”

The oread shrugged, not even looking up from her work. “Winston gave her a bottle of vodka last year.”

Hana sighed. “Yeah, that’s original. Please tell me he didn’t pull it out of the stock room, at least?”

“No,” Athena smiled slightly, “I made him go get something special. But you might consider it if you can’t think of anything else.”

“Nah,” Hana shook her head, flicking her tails as her ears rose back to their normal position. “I don’t like repeating gifts, and anyway it’s way too obvious. I mean, Winston doing it makes sense – no offense, rock chick, but your boyfriend doesn’t exactly do people skills – but I’ll figure something out.”

* * *

Three days later, Hana sat on a beanbag chair in her apartment wearing a t-shirt and jeans specially cut to allow for her tails, growling with frustration at her ceiling. “ _I’ll figure something out_ , right, great move Hana. Oh my god, what the hell were you _thinking_ ?”

She’d started writing a list of ideas on her phone, and each time she thought of a reason to cross it off.

  * Furry hat: Offensive. Might possibly be a relative or something?!
  * Vodka: NO.
  * Workout gear: Is there anything I could afford that she doesn’t already have? 
  * Gift cards: Gift cards are always lame.
  * Clothes: All she wears is the same black t-shirt and army pants. Every. Single. Day.
  * Hair dye? Rude.



The sad thing was she couldn’t even ask anyone else at the club for ideas, because Athena was right, Hana was probably the closest friend the intimidating woman had at L’Enfer, and even that was more about some circumstances they’d been in a few years ago than because they hung out regularly.

“This sucks,” she declared to the empty air before pushing herself up to her feet, “and I’ve got to find _something_ before Saturday. Time to hit the streets.”

* * *

Park Slope was not her usual territory when Hana was on the prowl for something new or interesting – a lot of time she tended to shop in Chinatown or Dumbo when she wasn’t just looking for stuff on eBay or Amazon – but the little shops and sheer volume of weird shit to be found there seemed like a good place to look.

She let herself wander through vintage shops, antique stores, art galleries, and collections of random and bootleg merch. She didn’t really know what to look for, but the more she went around the shops, the more she had a feeling that she’d find _something_ , or perhaps that it would find her. Either way, that was a gut instinct she listened to, and it never lead her wrong.

Usually.

Mostly.

Except for that one time, but that was totally different.

She’d started to consider going back to the gift card idea when she caught something out of the corner of her eye. A flash of pink that nearly perfectly matched the bouncer’s distinctive hair color, setting her tails twitching as she stopped, turning back towards a set of shelves she’d overlooked.

“ _Helloooo,_ what’ve we got here?” The top shelf was crammed with knickknacks and toys, and it took Hana a moment to carefully sort through everything until she found what she was looking for again: A vaguely bowling pin shaped…doll? It looked like some kind of cartoon monster, colored that bright shade of pink, with big eyes and a toothy grin. Carefully picking it up, it seemed like painted wood, and oddly heavy. After a moment she spotted the seam, and gently lifted the top away to reveal another, smaller monster inside, this one yellow and green. One of those nesting doll things – she’d seen a few before. Still Russian, but this felt a lot less stereotypical than some of the other ideas. The more she held it, she had a feeling this was what she’d been looking for.

Closing the top back on the set of dolls, Hana carefully flipped it over to look for a price tag. $40? She could do that.

She was so relieved at finding something that Hana started to skip on her way to the register.

_D.Va does it again!_

* * *

The annual L’Enfer holiday party / secret santa exchange wasn’t so much a big party as it was a chill out after closing. The only rules were that Amélie wasn’t allowed to make drinks for anyone, so she would actually _sit down_ and relax, and that everyone would receive a present – each would be labeled for the recipient and left on the bar, and the santas would be revealed after the presents were opened.

Hana stuck to cherry coke – she might decide to do a late night stream when she got home, and, if she did, she wanted to be sober. Drunk streams were strictly for $50 a month patreon pledges only – and not when she’d have to work the next day!

Most were drinking beers, though Amélie had bent the rules by telling Athena how to make some kind of deep red cocktail in a martini class that the Frenchwoman was now nursing, and Winston had a bottle of something bright green – but with his sheer size, Hana figured that was about the same idea. Some christmas music was playing quietly, and Winston had ordered in enough pizzas to feed a small army.

In other words, it was pretty much the same as the last Saturday of every month after locking up, with the exception of the presents and the christmas carols.

By some unspoken agreement, they all had a couple pieces of pizza and at least one drink before everyone went up to the bar to grab their presents, moving to pull chairs around to sit in something like a circle before presents began to be opened.

Hana’s had turned out to be a beautiful new hair bow made of a shimmering golden fabric with black damask patterns. “Ohhh, that’s _so pretty_ !” If she had to bet, it was from Amélie. Girl had an eye for style.

Aleksandra was seated closer to the bar, and when the Russian woman began to tear open the paper on the box she’d placed the dolls in, Hana couldn’t help but straighten up, both sets of ears straining to catch the bouncer’s reaction.

She’d expected a laugh or possibly a dismissive snort, if Aleks hadn’t liked them. Instead, to her surprise, the larger woman gasped softly, almost too low for even Hana’s primary ears to catch, then smiled with a strangely wistful look in her eyes, lightly running her fingers over the outermost doll, then carefully separating each one so she could get a look at each of the progressively smaller dolls before closing the set back up.

When the reveal came, she was surprised to find out that Athena had actually been her Santa – Amélie had been responsible for getting Winston a massive T-shirt that cheerfully declared: “Everything Happens for a Reason, Which is Usually **PHYSICS**.”

When she revealed that she’d been Aleks’ secret santa, she was surprised when the normally stoic woman crossed the room and swept her up into a hug, lifting her clean off the floor in the process, drawing a surprised yelp.

“Little fox,” the Russian asked, eyes wide, “how did you _know_ ?”

Hana shook her head once she was back on level ground. “I didn’t know – don’t know, sorry. I just saw that in a shop and got the feeling you should have it!”

Aleks’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Truly?”

“Really,” Hana confirmed, “I just trusted my gut.”

“Is good gut to trust.” Aleks waved in the general direction of outside. “When we finish, come with me and I’ll show you.”

“Well,” Hana considered the stream she’d thought of doing, then discarded the idea in favor of satisfying her curiousity, “sure, I’d love to know what’s up!”

* * *

Hana should not have been surprised that Aleks basically drove a military truck – an old Land Rover that looked straight out of some low budget zombie flick – but at least the ride was pretty short. Once they’d parked at her building, Aleks lead Hana into an elevator that lead them to her floor, and then into one of the rooms closest to the elevator lobby.

“Is not much,” Aleksandra admitted as she lead Hana in, “but is home.” Hana thought it was a pretty nice apartment – cleaner than hers, certainly – but didn’t get what the big deal was until she reached the living room, her tails puffing in surprise.

“ _Oh._ ”

There were shelves on almost every wall, and each was lined with different nesting dolls. Some obviously quite old, some looking quite new.

“This is my collection,” Aleks confirmed, beaming with pride, “I have shelf of all different monster sets, another of _babushkas_ , politicians, more.” Holding up the box that held the set Hana had given her, Aleks’ smile was one of uncomplicated delight. “I had not seen ones like these before. Will give them a good place.”

“Aw,” Hana blushed, but her tails swished with happiness, “thanks. That means a lot! I wasn’t really sure what to do - I’m really glad you like them so much.”

“Was good instincts, little fox.” Aleks chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Hana’s hair lightly. “You should trust them more often.”

“I guess I will,” Hana agreed, half the words swallowed by a yawn. “Right now, though, my instincts are saying ‘go to bed!’”

Aleks laughed, then caught herself yawning as well. “Good plan. Do you need help getting home?”

Hana shook her head as they walked back to the elevator. “Naah. I’ve got some uber ride credits to use anyway. Thanks, though.”

The bouncer nodded, then sketched a little salute. “ _Spokushki_ , little fox.”

Hana grinned. “ _Jal-ja_ , bear girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To go with today's update, there's a [new cast portrait for Hana!](http://redcap3.tumblr.com/post/154722796867/holiday-drabble-2-cfl-art)


	3. Silent Night (Fine Dining AU)

It was three o’clock on Christmas Morning, and as Gabriel Reyes-Morrison let himself into his apartment, he tried to remember when he used to get excited about Christmas, and failed. 

Christmas to most people was presents, going to church, maybe a nice dinner or two. 

The problem was that, for people like Gabriel and his husband, someone had to _make_ those nice dinners. So, for them, Christmas meant long-ass hours, open-to-close shifts, no sleep, catering an onslaught of holiday parties, and generally wanting to grab the next person who wished them a ‘Merry Christmas’ and shove a pine tree up their ass. From what Jack had told him before they’d left for their respective kitchens yesterday, even Lena, the constant ray of sunshine, had finally cracked a little bit under it all, threatening to carve steaks off of Genji Shimada after the server had come back needing four plates re-fired immediately because he’d screwed up on their checks, swearing a blue streak the entire time she’d worked to replace the botched dishes. 

Gabriel was fairly sure Jack was already in bed, and Gabriel would admit to being more than a little envious. Overwatch had closed at eleven and the kitchen was usually wrapped up by no later than one in the morning, even on the worst nights, where Gabriel had been responsible for delivering a corporate holiday party that had managed to drag well past midnight. Longstanding habits and his own professionalism wouldn’t let him get away with just pushing everything out of the van and walking away, much as he wanted to, which meant it had taken until a quarter past two to get everything cleaned, put away, and locked up before heading home. 

So now, at this ungodly hour, he dragged himself through the door, hung his raincoat on the hook, and ran a hand over his shaven head, trying to keep himself awake long enough to get undressed. 

To his surprise, when he entered their living room he found that his husband was sitting on the couch, head tipped back against the cushion as he snored. Gabriel padded over quietly, then gently kissed Jack’s forehead before he spoke. “You’re gonna get a crick in your neck doing that, you idiot.” 

Jack groaned softly, not really waking, so Gabriel lightly shook his shoulder. “C’mon, _mi sol_ . What are you even doing out here? You should be in bed.” 

Blinking a few times until his eyes focused, Jack looked confused for a moment before smiling up at his husband. “Hey.” 

“Hey yourself, dumbass.” Gabriel offered a hand as he stepped back, gently helping Jack up to his feet, a smile taking the sting from his words. “Why were you sleeping on the couch?” 

“Wasn’t _sleeping,_ ” Jack corrected peevishly, “that was a nap.” 

“Uh-huh,” Gabriel scoffed, “sure.” 

“I wanted to stay up until you got home. Give me a break.” 

Gabriel sighed, then smiled as they shuffled into the bedroom. “Ok, ok. That was very sweet of you. But you could have at least grabbed yourself a pillow.” 

“Wasn’t _planning_ to fall asleep,” Jack grumbled as he undressed, “I was trying to watch TV, but it was all old movies and infomercial crap. Guess I just zonked out. How was the party?” 

Gabriel shrugged as he pulled the covers back, slipping underneath the sheets and comforter with a sigh. “It went OK. The usual holiday bullshit, and they dragged their feet on leaving. Got a nice tip that I split with Hanzo and Fareeha, though.” 

Jack nodded, then joined him in bed. “You send her home or make her stay to clean up?” 

Gabriel smiled. “Tried to send her home. She insisted the job wasn’t done until we finished _everything._ ” 

Jack chuckled, a sleepy edge to his rumbling laugh. “Ana’s gonna kill you. There’s absolutely no way she’s going to talk Fareeha out of Culinary School at this rate.” 

“Yeah, well,” Gabriel yawned, then settled himself in for a good night’s sleep, one arm wrapping around his husband’s waist, “Ana can wait until I’ve slept a solid 12 hours.” 

“Sounds like a plan…” Jack’s hand found his, and their fingers interlaced for a squeeze. “Hey. Gabe?” 

Gabriel raised his head slightly, pulling back from where he’d been about to fall over the edge of passing out. “Mm? Yeah?” 

“Merry Christmas.”

Gabriel gently pressed a kiss to the back of his husband's neck. “Yeah. Merry Christmas.”


	4. Family (HamilWatch)

There were a lot of things Alexander Hamilton hated about the 21st century, but he’d quickly decided that Christmas was near the top of his list. 

Well, that wasn’t _entirely_ true. The holiday itself was fine – his personal spirituality had always been a complicated thing, but he’d always enjoyed Christmas Dinner with Betsey and their children. But the way it was celebrated now? The crass commercialism? The incessant blasting of false cheer that had begun in October? It hadn’t taken long for him to have his fill, particularly as thoughts of his family brought their own melancholy.

It didn’t help that Gibraltar was experiencing an unusually cold winter. Instead of the generally mild conditions, snow had fallen across the territory. It all seemed all too much like a Christmas Alexander had spent freezing his ass off as they paddled across the frozen Delaware, then marched through the night to get the drop on the Hessians at Trenton.

As Christmas surprises went, that had certainly been _memorable_ , but nothing he would refer to as fun. 

Wrapped in a jacket and a thick wool coat against the chill, he’d taken to walking the Watchpoint’s grounds more often than not as the month went on when he wasn’t shutting himself in his office, attempting to write. It was cold, and far too often wet, but he didn’t have to deal with some of the more…enthusiastic…decorators and celebrants. (Lena not having any concept of restraint had been expected. Angela, less so.)

He’d been midway through what seemed like thousandth circuit of the grounds, tightening the scarf he’d knotted around his face (did it _have_ to be so damned cold?) when a dark figure crossed his path. 

“I suppose,” Alexander scoffed as Gabriel rose from the snowy ground, surrounded by an inky black cloud, “you’re the ghost of Christmas Future?” He hadn’t actually _liked_ the movie that had been practically shoved at him, but Hamilton would admit Gabriel had the look…and that he was acting the part of Scrooge at this particular moment. 

The former Reaper pulled his hood back, snowflakes settling in the grey-streaked curls of his dark hair. “I thought you might be out here. Dinner’s ready.”

Alexander shook his head. “Not really hungry.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been walking in this crap since two in the afternoon.” Gabriel frowned. “Look, if nothing else you’re going to give yourself a cold. Come on. I promise I’ll keep Lena from getting too enthusiastic, if it helps.”

Alexander raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Well,” Gabriel admitted, “Amélie will.”

Despite his funk, Alexander chuckled. “That does seem more likely.”

“So come on,” Gabriel reached out, turning Alexander back towards the main building and giving him a gentle push, “my _pozole_ is done. It’ll warm you up.” 

* * *

When Alexander finished peeling off the heavy layers he’d wrapped himself in, most of the others had already taken their seats at the table.

Lena was still wearing an obnoxiously loud sweater (and, somewhat to his surprise, her wife had donned a matching one), but the others were dressed more casually, though Alexander did note the dark red cap poking out of Reinhardt’s pocket.

As if on cue, the kitchen door opened just as Hamilton sat at the place that had been kept for him, and Gabriel and Jack came through with trays of soup bowls, distributing one to each place.

The spicy smell of the soup did stoke his appetite, and even his sour mood eased in the face of the meal as Gabriel provided tamales, tortillas, and plates of roasted vegetables that were passed around. 

This was closer to the Christmas that Alexander had celebrated, and he finally began to smile as the plates were gathered up. It might not have been quite the same…but it was a good reminder that these strange, wonderful, bizarre collection was a family, too, and that he had a place in it.


	5. First Christmas (Quantum Embodiment)

Lena had figured the first Christmas would be hard.

If things had gone to plan, she would have officially come out to her friends and family within Overwatch several months ahead of the holidays, with all the discussions and challenges that would have entailed. She’d have been taking her hormones for six months by that December, and with the quiet support of Angie and Winston  –  (she would have come out to him before anyone else, of course!)  – behind her, she had a feeling that things would be sorted out and that she’d find more help along the way. After all, how many times had the members of Overwatch come together on and off the field to support each other through rough times?

Never in her worst nightmare scenarios had she imagined that Overwatch would no longer exist on December 25th, 2070.

She still talked to Angie, thank god, and the doctor had been a constant and supportive presence despite the poor woman being dragged through hearing after hearing as the UN nailed the remnants of their former organization to the cross and punished the survivors for the sins of the dead. Angela had even found time, somehow, to help Lena file all the paperwork with the correct offices for her Gender Recognition Certificate, name change, new passport, driver’s license, the whole bit.

Lena had a feeling that Angela was doing this as much as a way to distract herself from her own pain as her genuine desire to help, but Lena appreciated it regardless. She’d talked to Winston a few times, without bringing the subject of her transition up, but it was hard to dance around the biggest thing going on in her life right now. Most other subjects led to discussing the day that HQ had been blasted to rubble, and those scars were just too fresh. She’d settled for sending the big guy a holiday card (signed as Tracer to avoid complications), plus copies of a few of the movies they’d watched together when she’d been stuck in the chronal containment chamber during that horrible purgatory between being pulled out of nowhere and being able to leave Winston’s lab.

So. Here she was, on Christmas Day, sitting in her flat and not really watching the _ Doctor Who _ special, trying to figure out what the hell she could do next. Not much call for a teleporting, temporally-unstable ex-fighter pilot in the want ads.

She didn’t even have any presents to open.

She’d been on the verge of a real funk (and possibly going to the fridge to see how much beer she had on hand) when a knock at the door startled her.

“Who…?” Popping up from the couch, she’d almost made it to the door when the knock came again. “Coming, coming!”

Opening the door, she was greeted by the sight of an omnic with dark blue plating and a distinctive green and white “O” logo on its shoulder - an Omniship delivery driver. “Hello. Are you Lena Oxton?”

Lena blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Yes, sorry! That’s me! I apologize, I wasn’t expecting anything today.”

The omnic tilted its head slightly, body language conveying amusement even as it chuckled softly. “I get that a lot when I’m making deliveries during the holidays.” A compartment on its forearm opened, revealing a signature pad and a stylus. “Would you please sign for the delivery?”

Lena was still confused – who could have gone to the expense of sending her something, with Christmas delivery no less? – but she smiled to the driver and signed as requested, replacing the stylus so it could close up the compartment again.

“Excellent – one moment please.”

The driver returned with a hand truck laden with no less than ten boxes of various shapes and sizes that gave no clue to their contents. “Would you like some assistance getting these inside?”

“Wow,” Lena nodded, backing up to let the driver through, “yeah, that’d be great. I guess…just by the sofa, please?”

“It will be my pleasure.”

She saw the driver out, exchanging a round of ‘Merry Christmas!’ before closing the door, then returned to address the pile. “Well. Best to go from the top, I suppose…”

Opening the tape that held the first box shut, she was lucky enough to find a note attached to the brightly wrapped present that suddenly made things very clear.

 

_ Lena, _

_ I’d originally planned to deliver these myself, but I’m afraid that I’ve been asked not to leave New York until the hearings with the Security Council have finished. _

_ Fröhliche Weihnachten, _

_ Angela _

 

Lena decided to pull each present out of the boring brown boxes before opening anything, unexpectedly tearing up as she realized each and every one had a tag on it with her name – _her real name_ – on it. Some marked from Angela, a few marked as from ‘Father Christmas’ (hah) but every single one addressed to _Lena_.

Before she really knew what she was doing, Lena had pulled out her phone and tapped a speed dial, putting it to her ear and waiting for the other line to pick up.

_ -Hello, Lena! I take it my delivery was on time? _

“Hullo, Angie.” Lena let her tears flow as she smiled, laying back down on her couch and staring at the pile of perfectly wrapped packages. “I just finished taking them all out of the boxes, yeah. That was…I… _ thank you. _ ”

- _ You’re very welcome. Have you tried anything on? _

Lena shook her head, even if Angela couldn’t see it. “Haven’t even opened the wrapping paper, honestly.”

- _ Silly girl. You’re making me spoil the surprise! Come on, it’s Christmas. Open a few things and let me know what you think. _

Lena laughed again, her heart fit to burst after the earlier emptiness she’d felt. “Whatever they are, I already love them.”


End file.
